Self Assembly
by Galaxia Alpha
Summary: A look at the tattered pieces of Cloud’s mind and his journey to rebuild himself. The pairing is CloTi, but the point of the story is Cloud’s development as an individual.
1. Step 1: Finding the Pieces

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FF7 and I'm not making any money off of this.

**Rating:** PG

**Continuity:** Post Advent Children (look out for spoilers). This breaks off from FF7 continuity from there. In other words, assume no DoC.

**Summary:** A look at the tattered pieces of Cloud's mind and his journey to rebuild himself. The pairing is Cloud/Tifa, but the point of the story is Cloud's development as an individual.

**Notes:** Italics are used for flashbacks and thoughts in Cloud's mind. They are also used to emphasize words where needed, but the difference should be clear. I'm sorry if it's confusing, but I intend for it to be somewhat. Cloud's mind is a very disorienting place.

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**Self-Assembly**

_**Step 1 – Finding the Pieces**_

It's at the tip of a sword that he finds himself converged on a singular identity with a sense of clarity. He dances across moonlit air, tasting the siren call of his blade through the dark, his senses mixing and combining into simple _awareness_. There is a graceful freedom in his movements as he swings his sword around to block the bullets his opponent fires, sparks flying in the air as metal strikes metal. He flips to the ground and strikes out at another of the uniformed guards, taking him down easily with the broadside of his sword. His mind is focused around driven intent. Take down the guards. Complete the mission.

There isn't room to consider what the mission was or what it means. Not now with his foot lashing out into someone's chin and his twin blades crossing in front of his chest to meet with more bullets. He jumps up and off of the walls, the ceiling, the shoulders of the men attacking him—anything to keep him moving and fluid and alive. Alive. He's so alive right now and he has crossed the threshold of doubt or self-confidence to simple being and purpose. The mission, whatever it was, was important to him once. That's all the matters. The rest are details that he'll remember when he needs them.

A flash bomb goes off beside his ear and he blinks rapidly, blood spilling out from a gash on his forehead and filling his eyes, blurring his vision, touching the tip of his tongue with salty metal as he licks his lips. But there's only one guard left standing and he knows that this one too will go down because he will not stop until he is finished.

The last one grunts and charges, the only one of the guards carrying a sword as well as a gun. Cloud's own blades are occupied with blocking the automatic rapid-fire of the latter weapon, and he is left with no option other than to try to twist out of the way at the last second, jumping upward. There is the sharp fire-explosion of pain as the guard's sword stabs through his thigh but in the end, it doesn't really matter, because Cloud's blade is through the man's stomach. They slip to the ground together, collapsing in a cryptic embrace.

&&&&&

"Tell me you got it." He strains to see Yuffie's face over his shoulder as she jumps onto his motorcycle behind him. His breath makes little white clouds in the air, still coming in gasps from the run to their rendezvous point. His thigh is too numb now for pain and he knows he's lost a lot of blood from the sword wound that last soldier gave him. He can feel warm liquid filling his boot.

Yuffie's small body presses against his back. "Just go! Go already, Cloud! They're coming and I'm out of materia!"

He sees her other hand waving wildly back towards the new Shinra headquarters building in the peripheral of his vision, and then he's twisting the clutch, the motorcycle grumbling to life. He pushes off with his good leg (the one not leaking out all the blood in his body), the ground accelerating by. Shoulders swaying, he leans forward on the bike, blinking to focus on the road ahead, feeling disconnected from his body by the blood loss. Everything seems surreal, cast by the eerie glow of the stars.

_Green mist around him, always around him and filling him through his lungs and his pores._ _He wants only to breathe clean, colorless air but its been years since that and all he can do is look at the world through emerald shades as the scientist stands before him in a long lab coat that should be white. Hojo. The man's name echoes through his head like a marble dropped on glass, leaving chinks in his mind as it bounces through. He's barely able to move, cheek pressed against the cold glass of his containment tube after another round of experiments. Hojo is watching him, staring with that humorless smile on his face, waiting. Watching and waiting._

"Yeeeeaaaah!" It takes him a slow, confused moment to realize Yuffie is chearing. "We did it! That'll show those scumbags."

Turning his head slightly, he asks in flat tones, "So you got it?"

"Well, duh, Spikey-head."

"_Kid._ _Hey, Cloud. Can you hear me? We're going to get out of here, okay? And when we do, we're going to get those Shinra bastards." The voice sounds muted, bound by glass and mako. He tries to turn his eyes to see Zack, fists raised and eyes wide, floating in the tube next to him._

"Good," Cloud manages through fast breaths. He knows he doesn't have long until he passes out, but the first buildings of Edge are rising around them and he knows they are close, so close, and he needs to hold on just a little longer.

"Hey, Cloud? Cloud, are you okay?"

He doesn't answer.

&&&&&

Fingers trembling on the doorknob, he pushes his way into the Seventh Heaven, momentum launching him forward and legs stuck in time and space as his torso keeps moving, slamming into the floor of the bar and knocking the air out of his lungs with a gasp. The sound of Yuffie's voice is a distant buzzing and then there are others around him, all buzzing in his ears. A hand presses against his shoulder, another against his hip, rolling him over, but he blacks out before he can see who they belong to.

"_Zack?"_ _He's blinking uncontrollably and shaking so much. Raising a hand to his face, he stares at his pale, almost transparent skin, fluttering like a slip of paper in the wind, and he wonders if he's real._

"_Hey, kid. You're awake!" The deep, gruff tones should sound excited, but they are too weighted, the edges of the words blunted and numb._

"_Am I dead?" It feels so strange to be floating here in this green mist but he can't remember anything different. It's been so long. How long has it been since he's been alive?_

"_If you were dead, would I be here talking to ya?"_

"_Maybe you're dead too."_

"_I'm not dead!" Zack almost sounds indignant. "Look kid, when we get out of here, we're gonna take this whole place down, starting with that sick Hojo freak."_

_He begins coughing, feeling his body react from deep in his stomach and a pressure building up inside his head._

"_Hey, Cloud… Are you okay? Come on, you can beat this, okay?" Zack sounds desperate._

_A wheezing gasping fills the space of his containment tube and it takes him a moment to realize it's coming from him and that he's stopped coughing. Another few breaths and he tries to smile, feeling bad for that desperate voice but not really sure who it belongs to anymore. "It'll take more than a few experiments to take down a first-class SOLDIER like me, right?" He feels only half-conscious as he says it, voice not sounding like his own._

_There is a short stretch of silence and then he hears, "Right, kid," before darkness mutes his senses completely._

He gasps awake, pushing his body upward with unsteady arms and looking around frantically. He's trying to figure out where he is and who he is and why. The airs slips out of his lungs as he sees the faces of Avalanche watching him, and as he realizes that he's sitting on his bed in his room at the Seventh Heaven. His eyes dart about until he finds Tifa's steady gaze, worry tightening her features. He focuses on that gaze, on the way her eyes get lighter in the middle, almost auburn, with dark brown outlining the irises. She's sitting beside him and he feels her hand press against his back between his shoulders.

"How do you feel?" she asks.

He looks down at his thigh and sees the leg of his pants ripped off at the knee and the bottom of a bandage that he can feel tight against his wound. Not answering her question, he asks, "How long was I out?"

"Three hours." The voice is Barret's.

Again, he looks around the room, feeling the tenseness, like a loaded gun waiting for the trigger to be pulled. He's the gun and they're waiting for him. "Yuffie," he says suddenly. "What did you find?"

"Well, it's about time you asked," she says, bouncing a little and speaking with upturned tones. Her short black hair shifts around her face and he remembers how young she really is. He wonders what it would have been like to experience being eighteen like her.

"I broke into the lab," she continues, "and wow, Cloud, I was so badass I took down like a gazillion guards, and then I poked around for a bit and I found their lab book, just like Reeve said there would be and man, Cloud, these guys are messed up."

His eyes widen and his leather gloves creek a little as he tightens his grip on the bed.

"Oh, don't worry, they're not doing any human testing or anything. Just animals." She holds up a thick maroon book. "And it kind of looks like they're trying to figure out a safe way to use mako as energy without hurting the planet."

He sighs, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"That's no guarantee they don't have other records somewhere for worse stuff that they're doing," Cid says.

"No," he responds slowly, "it doesn't." He's staring down at his hands in his lap, turning them over. There are rips in the black leather, and he sees the peach of his skin through them.

"Then what's the point?" asks Barret.

"To send Rufus a message." He stands then, putting most of his weight on his good leg. Gradually, he leans onto the other one, feeling the stabs of pain and the muscles convulsing, but it holds him up. "To tell him that we're watching." He turns and looks up at Barret, the large dark-skinned man standing against the wall by the window, massive arms crossed over his chest.

And then Barrett is laughing at him, big booming sounds that unload the tension in the room. "Wonder of wonders Spike-o. Looks like you're resorting to scare tactics. One of those Turks are gonna come kill you in your sleep."

Cloud smiles a little. "They can try," he says. And then, feeling the weight of all their expectations around him, he walks out of the room.

&&&&&

He stands outside, head thrown back and looking at the stars, the sounds of the Avalanche crew seeping out the doors of the Seventh Heaven behind him and dispersing in the night air. He's cold and shivering in the sleeveless ribbed fabric of his black top but he doesn't feel it, his mouth drawn in a tight line and the glow of the stars burning into the retinas of his unblinking eyes. It's _her_. She's inside of him, clawing her way across his mind with her teeth, splattering it with red that clouds his vision as her banshee screams fill his ears. "_Come to me, my son."_

Something warm touches his arm, a light touch too gentle to fit with the shredding of his mind, glaringly out of place and yet he still barely notices it, is still barely able to force his mind to register that someone is standing next to him. He stiffens and turns his head slowly to the slim, dark-haired figure, blinking to recognize her through the static in his mind that makes him think of bad cellphone coverage. _All circuits are currently busy, please try again later. _

"Tifa?" he manages to question quietly. His voice sounds digitalized, disconnected, and artificial.

She smiles up at him and he knows he must be staring at her blankly, trying to see her through the lightning flashes and snow in his vision. Her smile falters.

_Blank eyes and long black hair lifted on the winds of pure mako energy and flowing around a grotesque body of amputated limps and decomposed flesh. The eyes open suddenly, pure blue and radiating outward with unnatural light. "Come to me. Come to mother." And he's reaching towards her, reaching out to grab the deformed shoulders and pull her towards him--_

"Cloud?" Someone is holding his hand and shaking it lightly. "Come on, Cloud, let's go inside."

_Cloud._ _That's my name._ He looks down at Tifa again, not knowing when he'd looked away, and somehow he manages to notice the concern laced in the amber of her eyes. "I hear her…" he says suddenly, not knowing where his voice came from.

She holds his gaze for a moment, unmoving, and then something changes in her expression. Her head tilts downward, and he wonders if it's because she understands.

"Do you need to go see her?"

His eyes widen as he looks at her in horror, and then _she's_ _strangling him in the decayed grasp of her will, cold like icicles lodging in his eyes, his hands, his legs, his chest. She pulls him by these like a marionette on strings. "Yes… come see me. Come my son. Free me and together we'll sail the galaxies with this planet as our vessel…"_

"…Aeris."

He blinks, breathing in sharply, realizing that Tifa has been speaking but missing all but that one word, that name, and knowing with a twist in his chest that no, she doesn't understand. He shakes his head violently and the motion dizzies him. It feels like he's falling, _falling, falling into her—_

"Jenova," he whispers through clenched teeth.

Tifa was talking again and she stops abruptly at his voice, her hand tightening its grip on his. "Cloud?"

He doesn't answer, confused by the name and not sure who she's talking to and where he is. _Mother…_

"Cloud." More forcefully this time. "We can fight this together. You're not alone."

He tries to focus on her, on the feel of her arms sliding around his sides to his back, the press of her warmth suddenly against his chest, the black strands of her hair brushing his chin. _You're_ _not alone._

But it's not solitude he fears. His fractured mind hasn't had that since Hojo's lab. It's being alone with _HER._ Jenova. Calamity of the skies.

He tries to focus on Tifa, on the details of her. He brings a hand up to run through her hair, forcing himself to see each individual strand as it slides over his fingers. He feels the press of her arms against his back and the splay of her hands against his shoulder blades, outlining them with his mind. He hears her breathing a little unevenly, hears Yuffie laughing somewhere behind inside the bar and Barrett's gruff yelling, hears the sounds of a wolf howling beyond the city limits and thinks of Zack…

"Tifa?"

She moves her head against his chest and looks up at him. At some point he'd put his arms around her but he can't really place when. It doesn't matter because he's holding her now in this moment and the static has finally cleared into the reality of the cold brush of the air against his cheeks and the starlight against the slope of her shoulders and the thumping of his heart in his chest.

She looks absolutely terrified. He runs a hand over her back gently. "It's okay, Tifa. I'm here."

Her lips stretch into a wide smile, the fear slipping out of her expression. "I know."

&&&&&

Sephiroth's voice comes sometimes too, with a sweep of white hair and too-bright green eyes, sharp like the steel point of a knife. For two years it plagued him incessantly, smooth deep tones clawing numbingly into his conscience: "_Brother…"_

It always started that way, with arsenic-laced, honey-smooth tones. "_We have to find her. We have to find Mother."_ And then, as he would fight to ignore it, the voice would intensify. "_Remember? Remember how I killed Aeris? Remember how I almost killed them all? You're nothing. You're a helpless, delusional weakling of a man that couldn't even make it into SOLDIER. Remember? Remember how you failed?"_ There would be a pause here, an eerie quiet that left him stumbling within himself, fists clenched and nails digging into his palms. And for two years he believed it and every time he closed his eyes he saw Sephiroth in a red haze, lightning strikes illuminating his face and the cryptic glint of his white teeth as his lips slithered up into something meant to be a smile.

For two years he couldn't escape that voice. But then Sephiroth returned in the body of Kadej and now it was easy.

"_Shut the hell up. I killed you twice, you delusional madman. Remember? Get out of my life."_

He feels Sephiroth slinking away, dissolving back into the depths of his consciousness, and Cloud crosses his arms, a barely perceptible smirk on his face and a smug glint in the brilliant blue of his eyes.

&&&&&

"Vincent."

Vincent Valentine turns his head slightly to look at him, stoic features unmoving.

Grabbing his mug of bear, Cloud takes a long swig and sets it down on the bar quietly before speaking again. "Do you ever hear voices? In your head, I mean."

Vincent regards him for a moment and then shifts on his stool to face forward again, hands placed in his lap and back stiff. It's sometime in the early morning and they are the only ones still awake. They've been sitting here in silence for hours, battling their own demons with an unspoken understanding. Dim light comes from a lamp in the corner and the place seems eerie in its emptiness. There is the sound of thumping upstairs and Cloud guesses that it is one of the members of Avalanche venturing out of bed to use the bathroom. From the heavy bluntness of the sounds, it's probably Barret.

"Yes."

Cloud turns to the other man, the read cape drawn tight around his shoulders. He has excellent night vision from the mako enhancements Hojo put him through and he sees Vincent's features clearly. There is no emotion in them, but he thinks the eyes look shadowed. "Yes?"

"That is what I said."

Cloud gazes down at the mug in his hands through half-lidded eyes. The amber liquid is almost gone. "How do you deal with it?"

Vincent makes a movement that Cloud takes to be a shrug. "I hide in a coffin and refuse to speak to anyone."

Cloud's eyes widen and the beer glints yellow in the sudden light. "What?"

"But I do not recommend that course of action."

Cloud examines the man now, sure that he is smiling even though the lips haven't moved. It occurs to him that Vincent might actually have a sense of humor. Then he realizes that he is also telling the truth. _I hid too. Off and on for two years._ "I tried hiding already. It didn't work."

Vincent doesn't respond, but he takes a swig of his drink, closing his eyes as he does. They are slow to open again.

"Vincent, what _do_ you recommend?"

Vincent turns slowly toward him, then lets his gaze travel up to the ceiling. It's quiet now, but Cloud imagines them all sleeping upstairs, Denzel and Marlene tangled up in their covers and the rest of Avalanche spread throughout the bedrooms. "Being here," Vincent says.

Cloud imagines Tifa, curled up in a ball with a hand across her forehead like she usually sleeps. He thinks of the pictures the children drew of them a year ago that still hang on her bedroom wall. She'd snatched them from Denzel and Marlene's room when Denzel threatened to throw them out because he thought they looked "childish." He's in that phase now where he wants to be so old and Cloud has to be careful because Denzel will follow anything he does, no matter how stupid or how dangerous.

A slow smile forms on Cloud's lips. "I guess you're right." He pauses and then thinks of something. "Hey, remember when I asked you if sins could be forgiven? I said I was going to try."

Vincent looks at him, waiting.

"They can be."

And this time Cloud knows he sees the lips twitch just a little as Vincent says, "I'm glad."

&&&&&

**_Coming soon…_** **_Step 2 - Rebuilding_**


	2. Step 2: Rebuilding

_A/N: Remember… italics are for flashbacks or memories._

_There will be one more part after this and then the story is done. Thanks for reading._

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

_**Step 2 - Rebuilding**_

"But how come you get to use a sword?"

Cloud leans back against his motorcycle, legs crossed and leather gloved hands resting on the black, shiny seat. He tilts his head at the boy, squinting a little in the late-afternoon sunlight. "Because I know how to use it."

Denzel stands up a little taller, tossing over-grown brown hair out of his cerulean eyes. "Then how am I supposed to learn?" He folds his arms around his chest and his lips tighten into a pout.

For a moment, Cloud is taken by just how old Denzel is getting and how fast he's growing. He's going to be tall. Taller than Cloud maybe. "With these," he says, leaning over his bike and pressing a button to release the weapons storage compartment at the side. It hisses open with the exhale of hydraulics, folding outward on the flank of the bike. Cloud pulls out two wooden training swords he'd had specially made for this and throws one to Denzel.

Denzel catches it, stumbling backwards a little. His hands slide over the polished wood and then he grabs the hilt and swings it wildly before him, shouting "hiyah!" for effect.

"Hey, careful with that," Cloud says.

There's a smirk on Denzel's face. "It's only wood. Besides, I'm not a kid."

That line again. Denzel has been saying it constantly lately and Cloud is sure that Tifa is going to scream if she hears it again. But she gets a break today. He'd promised Denzel that he'd start teaching him to use a sword on his birthday and Denzel had reminded him everyday leading up to it. So here they are, miles outside of Midgar in the open plains.

"Really?" Cloud says. "Alright kiddo, take me down."

Denzel's smug expression staggers for a second but he laces it back together, teeth clenched and eyebrows low as he raises the practice sword and charges toward Cloud.

Cloud sidesteps and the boy tumbles over the bike to land on the other side, puffs of dry dirt rising around him. Turning, Cloud leans forward on the seat to look down at Denzel, legs sprawled out on the ground and a shocked expression twisting the young features. "Are you okay?" Cloud asks.

Denzel frowns angrily and Cloud takes that to mean yes. It reminds him so much of himself at that age, the sulking determination in the eyes, the prideful set of the jaw. He remembers now that he fought all the time as a kid, remembers how _they surround him, slamming their hands into his arms and his back and his chest so that he stumbles around like a drunk. Finally he falls, backpack on the ground beside him, and when he comes up again he's staring murderously at the ringleader. His head only comes up to the other boy's chest but he doesn't care; he punches him anyway. And then they're rolling on the ground and the other boy is on top of him yelling "shorty" and "freaky-head" and much more vulgar things but Cloud keeps fighting even though his lips are bleeding and his eye is swollen and he can no longer hear out of one ear…_

Cloud blinks himself free of the memories and pushes himself off of the bike, turning around. "Come on, let's try again," he tosses over his shoulder. "The first thing you have to…"

His sentence never gets finished because Denzel is slamming into his back, knocking the air out of Cloud's lungs as he falls to his knees. Beside him, Denzel recoils a little and tumbles to the ground, scrambling to his feet as soon as he can manage with the wooden sword outstretched and pointed towards Cloud's chest.

Cloud can't help it. He really tries, but he can't, and he's suddenly laughing. The sight of the blush rising to Denzel's cheeks finally slows his chuckling enough for him to manage, "That was good. You skipped right to lesson number 2. Never let your guard down."

A huge smile lifts Denzel's cheeks, and his sword drops just a little.

That's when Cloud attacks, diving at the boy and bringing him to the ground, tickling him until he can barely breath.

&&&&&

She's cleaning tables with long angry strokes, the laminated tops squeaking loudly under the pressure, when he walks in the door of the empty bar. It's raining outside and he's dripping wet, hair matted against his face and pants sticking to his legs. Puddles of mud are forming at his feet and he glances down at them guiltily.

"Cloud! You're making a mess!"

He looks up at her, meeting her reddish-brown eyes as she stops cleaning, straightens and points at his mud-caked boots. "Shoes off. Now," she says, the hand with the rag resting on her hip.

Bending, he undoes the laces, feeling the fatigue in his arms and the strain in his back from delivering and riding his bike all day. He'd had a run-in with the Turks too. That had been fun. "Sorry," he mutters to the floor. Water droplets drip from the spikes of his hair.

The boots come off one at a time. Thump. Thump. He figures his socks probably need to go too, so he drops those beside the boots. Slap. Slap. Barefoot now, he stands up again. She's there in front of him, arms crossed and gaze critical. It looks like she's still trying to be angry that he's tracking mud and water into her bar so late at night but the expression cracks and softens. "You're soaked," she says. He nods once, not really sure what she wants him to do about it. A flash of light illuminates her face through the windows and then the dark shadows of the dim bar lights return. Thunder rumbles and he shivers. The water is turning cold on his skin.

"Wait here. I'll get you some dry clothes." She looks down at the puddle at his feet and then up again, the stern expression back on her face. "And don't move!" She spins on her heal and hurries to the stairs.

Pulling off his gloves first, he begins to undo the straps of his armor, letting the empty sword holster and the shoulder guard fall to the floor. He shrugs, trying to loosen the muscles in his neck and finally brings his hands up to massage his shoulders. Tifa is in one of those moods of hers. She plays well at being the ever-happy, optimistic girl, but even Tifa has bad days. She'll usually keep up the smile for the kids and for the customers and for him too if she can, but it's long past the time when he usually gets home and she's exhausted. Maybe even as tired as he is. It's in these rare moments that he catches the full force of her mood swings and he's thankful for it now. When he's tired, it's so much easier to get lost in his mind, but her emotions keep him on edge, keep him focused in the here and now.

She's back, holding out a towel, a gray t-shirt, and a pair of pajama pants to him. The pants are thick flannel and he can't wait to put them on and finally feel warm again. He takes them gratefully and is about to walk toward the stairs to go up to the bathroom and change when she stops his momentum with a hand on his chest. He looks down at those large eyes questioningly.

"Oh no you don't, Cloud. You're not tracking mud and water through this whole place after I just cleaned up. You can change right here." She nods with the last syllable for emphasis, a few strands of black hair falling across her eyes.

He looks down at the clothes in his hands and realizes she's thrown a pair of boxers in there too. He feels the blush in his cheeks.

For the second time, her demeanor breaks and she sighs. "Don't worry Cloud, I'm going upstairs to check on Denzel and Marlene. I'll be back down in a little bit."

She smiles a little at him and he nods. Then she's gone again.

He changes quickly, leaving the pile of wet clothes by the door. The pants feel every bit as good as he'd hoped. He considers going up to his bed, but the couch is closer, and he wanders into the next room, collapsing face-first onto it, one arm draped over the edge and knuckles grazing the carpeted floor.

Her gentle footsteps stop at the doorway a few minutes later. He opens one eye to look at her, and she's standing there, an uncertain look on her face and a hesitant bend to her body, as if she's not sure he's still awake. Grunting, he hauls himself up to a sitting position and waits for her to come sit next to him. She doesn't need much invitation because she practically melts down beside him, exhaling a sigh as he puts an arm around her and pulls her head against his chest.

It's taken a bit of trial and error, but he's finally learned that when Tifa's in a bad mood, all she really wants is a hug. Tilting his head backward into the couch, he closes his eyes and idly rubs her back. She leans farther into him, cheek pressed against his chest, and drapes an arm over his shoulder to kneed the muscles in the back of his neck.

"Cloud?"

"Mmmm?" He's really not sure he can get any closer to coherent speech right now.

"What happened today? When you called you said you'd tell me later." Her voice is soft, blending with the chiming of raindrops against the windows.

He lifts his head to wake himself up enough to answer, catching the smell of shampoo in her hair as he does. Opening his eyes, he follows the dim lines of her silhouette next to him, barely visible in the light that floods in from the main bar area in the next room. She really is a beautiful woman. "Reno and Rude paid me a visit."

She stiffens beside him and he presses his hand against her back to force her to relax again. The tension empties back out of her form. "It seems Rufus wants to call a truce. He wants Avalanche to monitor his company as a public committee. He'll give us access to any information we want, and we won't break into his place anymore."

She stops rubbing his neck and leans back a little to catch his eyes with hers. He wonders if the glowing blue of his iris' looks strange to her in the dark. "Can we trust him?" she asks.

He shrugs. "I don't know. With Avalanche watching him, the public won't worry so much about hearing the name 'Shinra' again. We don't have to trust him, but… we can't keep fighting Tifa." He's thinking of Denzel and Marlene, thinking of that determined look on Denzel's face every time they spar, and he knows that if they don't stop this soon, those kids won't get to live any differently than they do.

She sighs and lets herself fall back against him. "If we're going to rebuild our world," she says slowly, "then I guess this is a start."

He nods, "Yeah, it's a start."

&&&&&

"Cloud?"

Cloud looks down at Denzel. They are leaning against the motorcycle together, watching the sunset after another training session. This has become a routine for them, and they go out together at least once a week after Cloud gets home from work. It's been a challenge to juggle his delivery schedule around to make this possible, working longer some nights so he can stop working earlier on others, but it's been worth it.

"Yeah?" he mumbles lazily. He feels young, like a kid again. Those days he would watch the sunset and dream of running away to become a SOLDIER so he could impress _Tifa. She sits on the edge of the well, looking down at her hands and swinging her legs against the old brick. He's standing behind her, watching the moonlight flicker off her hair and thinking that she's just asked him to be her hero. He, Cloud Strife, to be _her_ hero. She doesn't need to ask him to be that. It's all he wants anyway._

"Are going to marry Tifa?"

"Yes." The answer comes out before Cloud can really think about what he's saying, still half lost in memory. His eyes widen and his cheeks redden and he clears his throat suddenly. "I mean…"

Denzel's laughter fills the cool evening air. There's a mischievous bend to the sound and Cloud narrows his eyes at him suspiciously, still feeling the heat in his cheeks.

"Aren't you supposed to think girls have cooties or something?'

Denzel gives him a stern look. "Cloud, I'm not a kid anymore."

Oh yes, how could he have forgotten? He sighs and shakes his head.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to tell her. But you should hurry up and do it already."

Cloud shifts against the bike uncomfortably. "Why?"

"Because if you don't do it soon, you're going to get too old." The tone is matter-of-fact, like such a thing should be obvious.

"Denzel, I'm only 24."

But Denzel is still talking, ignoring Cloud completely. "And then you're going to get bald and fat and Tifa's not going to like you anymore."

Cloud blinks at him with wide eyes. Bald and fat? Where does this kid come up with these things? And then he notices the wicked glint in Denzel's eyes and the smirk on his lips. He's taunting him.

Cloud nods once and smiles his own malicious smile. That's it, there will be much tickling. He grabs Denzel by the waist and rolls over the bike with him. They fall to the ground laughing under the last rays of the sun.

&&&&&

He's at Aeris' church and he stands squinting at the water, not completely sure why he's come here. Sometimes he feels as if he is waking up out of a trance and suddenly here he is, staring at his reflection in the pool and trying to figure out why his hair is blond. It's Zack. It's Zack's voice that brings him here. It's at these times that he has to remind himself of his identity, and it's painful as he whispers, "I'm not a SOLDIER. I never was." But his face still doesn't look quite right to him and it isn't until he says, "My name is Cloud and I'm the leader of Avalanche," that his features finally seem to make sense.

There are flowers everywhere, at the water's edge, floating on its surface, climbing up the rafters. They have long since taken over, freed by the collapse of Shinra and its abuse of the lifeforce. He remembers Aeris as he last saw her one year ago, a hallucination maybe, as he stood in the pool with the children healed of geostigma. He'd almost been killed by Kadaj and his brothers, but his friends had brought him here and the water had given him life again.

He'd seen her at the doorway, Zack by her side, and something seemed to click in his mind because the image of the two of them together made so much sense. It was then that he realized that maybe he'd never really loved her like he'd thought he had. Maybe it had been Zack all along. He'd looked at her and he was seeing a sister, a friend, a guardian. There was something motherly in her gaze and in her smile.

And then, after her image had faded into bright light, he'd turned to Tifa, and she looked almost bashful for the mirth of her wide smile as she gazed at him. He remembered that smile from childhood years. Walking toward her, he reached out a hand. She looked hesitant, glancing from the water back to his eyes, but then Denzel and Marlene both yelled, "Come on, Tifa," together and she was in his arms. He gently put her down at the center of the pool and stepped back to splash her. The look on her face as black hair dripped wet into her eyes was one he'd never forget.

&&&&&

_**Coming Soon: Step 3 – Letting Go and Living Free**_


	3. Step 3: Letting Go and Living Free

A/N: Excuse the James Bond reference… It just kinda happened and I didn't have the heart to take it out. Let's just imagine James Bond exists in the world of FF7, shall we? Thanks to everyone who reviewed! This will be the last chapter. As in the others, italics are for flashbacks and inner thoughts.

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_**Step 3 – Letting Go and Living Free**_

He's standing on the edge of the cliff looking out at the skyline of Midgar, hands in his pockets and hair blowing against his cheeks. There is a buster sword in front of him, point pressed into the ground and blade rusted, but it still looks imposing and powerful, like the man that once owned it. Zack.

_He knows his eyes have been open all this time but it feels as if a blanket has been lifted from his head and he's seeing for the first time in days. There is bright sunlight forcing him to squint as he lifts his chin, heart pumping faster than it should because he knows something bad has happened. Fingers press into the ground, dirt grinding up under his nails as he claws his way forward, toward the dark shape at the edge of the cliff, arms stiff and legs numb from days of not using them. It's quiet, so quiet, and he feels tense waiting for a sound, for Zack's voice to fill the air. It doesn't. And when he finally makes it to the dark shape on the cliff edge, he sees lifeless blue eyes that look unspeakably dim without the familiar glow of mako._

Cloud breathes in suddenly, not realizing that he had been pressing his lips closed against the air. He clears his throat, shifts his weight, looks down at his black boots and then up at the sword again. "You're the last one," he says finally.

Nothing happens. The sun is high overhead, bright just like it was that day. A sigh slips through his lips and he tries again to speak. "You're the last one in my head that I haven't been able to get rid of."

He winces, not liking the way the words sound. "I don't mean it like that. I mean, it's not that I want to get rid of you. I just…"

His brain feels frozen, slipping backwards to _the back of a pickup truck, bumps in the road and a cranky old man. Then Zack's face, close to his: "We're friends right?" Telling him that he'll never leave. Telling him that they'll stick together._

"I need to let you go Zack." He shakes his head, like he's trying to jar the words out of himself. "I told you that I'd live life for the both of us…"

A pause. A breath. Another gust of wind slapping his face. "But I can't."

He feels the sweat on his palms and rubs his hands against his pants, letting his chin drop so that he can squint at the ground. "Remember how you dragged me along after you got me out of Hojo's lab? I feel like that's what I've been doing with you… only…" Looking up, he regards the sword in front of him, sun reflecting off the metal and wind whistling through its materia slots. "You don't need me to do that, do you? You're not like I was then. You're okay."

His gaze travels out to the view beyond the cliff, toward the dirt road that lines its base and leads back toward Midgar. "I'm finally ready, Zack. I want a family of my own, and I think I'm finally ready for it. Remember that girl Tifa I was so lovesick over?"

He smiles now, finally able to manage it, but the expression fades and he feels the downward pull on his lips that he somehow feels unable to control. "I'm gonna miss you, man," he says, backing away. The next words come almost as a whisper: "Goodbye, Zack."

And then he turns, swinging his leg over his motorcycle as the rumbling of the engine cuts through the air. He knows it's the last time he will ever set foot on this cliff, but he thinks also that it's okay. Everything is okay now. As he winds the bike down the road past the cliff, he looks up one last time, and for a moment, for the space between blinks, he sees a gray wolf standing there, watching him from beside Zack's sword.

&&&&&

The cliff is far behind when he finally takes out his phone, one hand on the grip of the handlebars, the other pressing the speed-dial.

Two rings and then her voice. "7th Heaven. How may I help you?"

"I can think of a few ways." He's smirking as he says it.

Tifa laughs lightly. "What happened to the innocent, bashful boy from Nibelheim?"

Cloud shrugs, even though he knows she can't see the movement. "I guess you're a bad influence on me."

There's a pause on the phone and he knows she's trying to think of a good comeback. "Oh, is that it?" she says finally, using a standard, pre-packaged line. Maybe she needs more time to think, but he knows she'll get him back later.

"Yup," he says simply. "Is Marlene there?" He'd thought of asking for Denzel, but his mission seemed better suited for a girl rather than a rebellious pre-teen boy.

"Sure, hold on."

He waits, noticing the green of the foliage beside the road as he does. It looks out of place as he remembers how stark and lifeless everything used to be this close to Midgar. There are dandelions sprouting up through the cracks in the dirt and he thinks that Aeris and Zack would be proud to see how everything turned out. He smiles.

"Cloud?" It's Marlene's voice.

"Hey. I have a mission for you," he says.

"What's the payment?"

Cloud nearly chokes. "Payment?" Seriously, when did these kids become so plotting?

"Yeah. Like James Bond. He always gets some kind of payment when he goes on a mission."

"This isn't that kind of mission."

She's still talking like she hasn't heard him. "How about a shoe phone. That would be fun, wouldn't it Cloud? Then I could just take off my shoe and call you randomly throughout the day."

_Oh, please, no._ Denzel might be in a rebellious, "I'm not a kid anymore," stage, but Marlene is in the "I'm going to talk until I suffocate," stage. Between the two of them, he can barely keep up. "Listen Marlene, can you just find out what ring size Tifa is for me?"

"Six-and-a-half."

"What?" He doesn't expect such a quick answer. "How do you know?"

He thinks he can hear her gloating over the phone. "Lesson number one. Be prepared for anything. Denzel's been teaching me."

He almost laughs. These kids are something else. "Hey, don't tell Tifa I asked you that, okay?"

"But she's standing right here listening."

The blood rushes to his face and he has to swallow quickly to keep from coughing. "Marlene…" His voice is tight and tense.

"Bye Cloud! And remember my shoe phone!"

The line goes dead. He holds the phone to his ear a few seconds longer, jaw loose and eyes blinking.

Those kids are really something else. He wonders vaguely how much worse his own kids will be one day and then figures he's got more immediate concerns.

Like finding a ring.

_**Re-assembly Complete.**_


End file.
